


Communication

by Topicabo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greg thinks too much, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, Slow Romance, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topicabo/pseuds/Topicabo
Summary: It's hard sometimes to know what Mycroft thinks, and Greg has trouble asking.(Note: This is an edited repost of Chapter 14 of November Mystrade)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's block is utterly frustrating me right now. I'd already reedited this one a bit back but held off on posting, but I wanted to get something up.

The lead-in to Greg’s former marriage had been that frantic, dizzying kind of courtship where he and his ex-wife couldn’t keep their hands off each other for even a day, resulting in them marrying too quickly out of foolishness and high passions. That might have been the reason why it ended up fizzling out the way it had. But for all his regrets, it had taught Greg the value of a slower momentum, of just allowing things to move forward at their own pace. Good thing, too, when it came to Mycroft Holmes.

 

Greg had initially found Mycroft to be stoic, condescending, and in those instances when Greg had been short on patience, infuriating. It seemed in a mere blink that Mycroft had gone from unassuming shadowy presence to a reoccurring upheaval of Greg’s normal routine. It didn't help that Mycroft would frame his varying demands with that faux polite angle of ` _my apologies for the inconvenience, but if you wouldn’t mind dropping everything whilst you bend over to my whims_?`, generally accompanied by that additional undercurrent of ` _and no, Detective Inspector, you don’t have any say in the matter, but it’s quite adorable that you think you do_ ’.

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Greg had often contested Mycroft’s misguided notion that he would automatically run for a measuring stick every time the man said `jump`. And to Greg’s surprise (and secret relief), Mycroft never seemed to take any offense to the occasional request to piss off. In fact, Greg had gotten the distinct impression that Mycroft respected him for it.

 

Greg couldn’t deny that Mycroft had a certain magnetism about him; a contradicting puzzle wrapped into a Savile Row three-piece package. As their association went on, Greg would catch little flashes of the man buried underneath that persona of imposing government official. Intellectual on a dizzying scale, yet somewhat dense when it came to social interactions. Detached and unyielding to the point of heartlessness, but with an unexpected compassion for a volatile little brother. The transition from begrudgingly tolerating Mycroft’s presence to forming a fascination for the little intricacies of his personality had been so gradual that Greg had been startled when he realized it had happened.

 

And then Greg had noticed Mycroft’s attitude towards him shifting as well. How those polite, indifferent smiles had started being accompanied by real warmth, just barely visible in Mycroft’s eyes. And he couldn’t help but find it odd that Mycroft kept pulling in him for debriefings, and yet as time went on, their meetings started to have less and less to do with Sherlock or work matters.

 

Things always had a tendency of sneaking up on Greg, and becoming attracted to Mycroft Holmes was really no different. But arriving at that realization had not been much of a consolation, especially when dealing with a man as inscrutable as Mycroft. He had grown more open towards Greg, yes, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything beyond a friendly working relationship. Greg could have been fooling himself, attaching a deeper significance to Mycroft’s actions than there actually was. For a few months, Greg had hovered on whether or not it was worth the taking the plunge and asking Mycroft about his side of things. He’d never had difficulty in just declaring his interest in someone, but it seemed so much more complicated with Mycroft.

 

There came a night where they’d been sitting in a meeting that had only been about ten minutes of actual business. Then the conversation had shifted around to other topics like Greg’s current cases, shared commiserations about both of their workloads, and a spirited debate about what the best place would be to retire if either of them had their way. A particularly clever quip from Greg had left Mycroft shaking with laughter. Greg had smiled over how at ease the man had looked leaning back in his chair with one hand covering his mouth, struggling to compose himself.

 

“Let’s get dinner.”

 

Greg’s throat had gone dry the second he’d blurted out the offer. Whatever foolish surge of confidence he’d had sputtered and died at the sight of Mycroft’s blank stare. He’d swallowed, mentally scrambling to dig himself out of the proverbial hole he’d just buried himself in.

 

Then Mycroft had gotten to his feet and pulled on his jacket, giving his cuffs a cursory adjustment before turning to Greg.

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

It’d been a slow progression of dinners, lunches, and coffee dates to arrive at where they were now. At first, Greg had been sure that Mycroft had only accepted his initial invitation out of courtesy. Their continued involvement with each other said otherwise, but there was something restrained in the way that Mycroft treated him. Though Greg couldn’t say he was any better. He supposed his own insecurity was partially to blame. They spent time together, kissed, engaged in a few occasions of physical intimacy, but it all felt so cautious.

 

“Gregory?”

 

Greg jerked back to the present at the sound of Mycroft’s voice. His expression turned sheepish as he wondered how long he’d been preoccupied during their dinner. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

 

“Hm. May I ask about what? You seem as though you’ve been distracted lately.”

 

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Greg said with a laugh. He lowered his sightline to Mycroft’s tie, not quite able to look him in the face. “We’re doing good, right? I mean, it seems like we are, but honestly it’s hard for me to tell how you feel about all this. And… sometimes I think the only reason we’re still going is that you’re too decent a bloke to tell me to jog on.”

 

Mycroft set his fork down with a soft clink. Greg watched as he folded one hand over the other and leaned forward on his forearms.

 

“I would not be pursuing you if I did not want you, Gregory.”

 

Greg’s head shot up. His breath caught at the never-before-seen intensity behind the Mycroft’s eyes.

 

“Yes, I said pursuing. Do you think I would still be here if I found you unworthy? That would be a waste of my energy and time, two things I don’t spare lightly.” Then Mycroft paused. For the first time in Greg’s memory, he actually looked self-conscious. His expression resettled as he lifted his chin to the appropriate poised height. “So rest assured, I do wish to be with you. And if I have been remiss in demonstrating that, then I shall take great pains to rectify that error as soon as possible.”

 

Greg let out a slow breath. “Jesus, Mycroft.”

 

Mycroft blinked, clearing his throat as he took a sip from his wine glass. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I was unsure as well, Gregory. The idea that someone such as yourself would wish to be with me; I had not thought such a thing possible. I am relieved to find my doubts unwarranted.”

 

Mycroft started as Greg’s hand covered his own. Their eyes met, and Greg smiled at the visible blush that crept up Mycroft’s cheekbones. As he threaded their fingers together, he could only feel gratitude for this moment, that he finally understood how much this all meant to Mycroft. And if they were both a bit out of their depth, that was fine. That just meant they’d have to muddle through it together.

 

And that sounded pretty good to Greg.

**Author's Note:**

> This has one of my fav bits of dialogue I've written. I find their relationship in this oddly gentle, with a nice cresting build.


End file.
